Hannah’s temple throbbed. She squinted her eyes and forced a smile as she hopped down from the running board. “Say hello to your new ride!”

  This guy. He really chose this thing! We spent a WHOLE DAY looking at the latest and greatest trucks and THIS is what he wanted? It doesn’t even have Bluetooth!

  Spinning the keychain around a little too fast, it flew off the tip of her finger. In the air, she caught them, doing her best to make it seem like she flicked them up on purpose, and handed them to Mac. At this, Mac’s mouth hung open, his eyes the size of the moon. His pleading, rich brown eyes always made her heart pound like his old nickname, but she could never diagnose why.

  Man, the chrome in my spine is really saving me from embarrassment today. Imagine if I had to do that on stock reflexes… But still. A beat-up, rental car-gray 2006 Toyota Tacoma 4x4 with 478,925 miles on it? Really!? And Toyota tax is ridiculous. It’s been more than 40 years! Can’t believe I dropped 28 bands on this piece of shi—

  “Thanks Hannah! Really thought I was gonna get more pushback on this. Your mechanics work fast!” Mac smiled. Her heart glitched twice. She returned it.

  “D-don’t mention it. Had them put in a few… extras as well. Nothing you can see except for that thing that looks like a pterodactyl’s cage on standoffs above the cab. It looks a little weird, but trust me, I swear by this roof rack. Oh, and don’t open the tonneau cover.” Her eyes shifted around, wanting to look anywhere but his face.

  “I was wondering what that thing was. Cool!” Mac replied.

  Throwing his limbs up in wild celebration, he suggested a christening. “Can’t wait to take this thing for a spin like right now! Come with me. We can grab some food at the drive-through and go for a little drive up to this killer spot where we can watch the planes take off and land against the sunset as we eat. Not bad huh?”

  Hannah turned from Mac to have a timeout with herself. Bracing her face and cringing, she slapped her cheeks with both hands, hard. She turned around. Mac raised his eyebrows.

  Is he asking me out? No… that’s just how he is. Must be. Unless… No. You’ve just read too much shoujo manga growing up. Overthinking things. Way overthinking.

  Playing it cool as her face turned rosy, she channeled all the nonchalance and detached professionalism she could draw from the ground. It didn’t work. “Sure! Was getting kinda hungry anyways…”

  ---

  She stared at Mac’s open driver side window, the intercom looming, a black monolith at point blank range.

  Watching planes at sunset as we eat in his truck? What, are we gonna have some meaningful heart-to-heart there or some—I mean, how lame! No, you GOTTA have a better idea Hannah, or it’s game over!

  A pregnant pause.

  “Yo, Earth to Hannah… What do you wanna order? Dude’s asking and we’re holding up, like, five cars,” Mac prompted.

  Wait… I got it!

  Leaning over Mac and gripping his windowsill, she put her plan into motion: ordering one of everything on the menu, one by one.

  Menu. Me-n-u? With this guy? Gag me with a spoon.

  “I’ll have a, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” she began ordering.

  In her peripheral vision, Mac put on his confused puppy-dog act. She caught a whiff of the joint’s greasy exhaust, and her mouth watered.

  Why do I feel so… ashamed? I can’t even fake something as simple as an over-the-top order for burgers and fries in front of this guy. Am I… losing my touch? No. No. I’m just preoccupied training him. Yeah. That’s all.

  “Number two meal. With a Coke please. Yeah. One of those.”

  A semi-truck passed in front of them, honking its horn at a car that cut them off as she turned away from the intercom.

  “Fuck!” she whispered.

  “Aight. A number six meal with a Sprite, and a number two meal with a Coke. Is that correct?” the employee asked.

  Still leaned over him, Hannah looked at Mac and nodded yes, resigned to her fate: to eat some junk food sitting beside him in his charming, clapped out Toyota, watching the planes take off and land against the setting sun. She sighed a smile for a split second as she sat back down in the passenger seat before she shook it off like she realized her mask was one of madness.

  HUH? What did I just do? That’s not it!

  “Yeah. That’s right,” Mac answered.

  “Cool. Please pull up to the next window. We’ll get you sorted out. Thanks for choosing Wendy’s!”

  Mac put it in drive, the top of his right hand scarred from battle more than his truck’s weathered paint. They pulled up to the payment window.

  Hannah drew her wallet, but Mac was quicker on the trigger. “Lemme pay. Least I can do in return. I know it's not much thanks, but I hope you know I'm grateful all the same.”

  “Are you sure? I can—”

  Mac rebuffed her offer, gravel now swirling in his throat. “No way. Grabbing food was my idea anyways.”

  She blushed as he turned to pay. The employee passed them their food. As soon as the tires touched the driveway, Hannah heard the rumbles of engines fast approaching. She spotted the threat from Mac’s still open driver’s side window: five black SUVs pulling up.

  “DRIVE!” Hannah shouted.

  Spotting their assailants as he checked for cross traffic, Mac yanked the wheel to the right and mashed the gas pedal. He hit the window switch as the truck hopped off the curb and skidded onto the street. THUNK! SKRRRRR! ROOOOOOAR!

  Panicked, Mac’s knuckles drained themselves of color on the wheel as he peeled out. “What do I do!?!?!?”

  Hannah took a couple seconds to evaluate, then calmed down. “Drive fast, don’t crash. Time to see what this baby can do.”

  Tack tack tack tack! A wild spray of bullets hit the back window. The thick polycarbonate composite absorbed them with no complaints.

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  This was so worth those Japanese jokers looking at me funny when I told them to install armor. Couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I just know they were talking hella shit. Ha!

  She fished out a VR visor wired into the door card, powering it on as she staged it on her forehead. Latch latch! Attached to her seat on the door side, a small, airline-sized table, the surface lined with a mousepad, extended from stowage. Digging around the door pocket, she scared up a small black Logitech gaming mouse by its tail and placed it on the mousepad. The LEDs pulsed through the colors of the rainbow as she held it.

  “Red light ahead!”

  Hannah looked through the windshield. “There’s a gap. Hit it!” She flipped the peripherals over her face.

  The roar of the engine let up and Hannah swayed side to side before being inertia locked against her seat belt for a split second. Then, Mac put the pedal down, and the acceleration ragdolled Hannah into her seatback.

  This thing can win the Ghetto Baja 1000 if it really wanted to. 2,000 horsepower, everything needed to put those horses to work, KERS, took out all the unnecessary crap, welded in some more chassis braces, and a full computer retrofit with hyper-advanced nannies. It’s also a hybrid! We have some weird emissions laws here… Anyways, all Mac needs to do is point where he wants to go and floor it and we’ll probably be alright.

  The lead SUV closed in on their right rear quarter panel.

  “This is gonna get LOUD.”

  Fwhiwiwiwiwiwip! Whir! The truck lifted its shirt up: a 20 mm autocannon sprang from its bed like a rabid weasel firing itself out of a jack-in-the-box.

  Hannah flicked the mouse left and held down her index finger, a pure reaction. Tkhtkhtkh-TKHTKHTKH-tkhtkhtkh! Fwhump! Veering off to the side, the first chaser retired. It caught on fire, blazing orange for a few seconds. BOOM! The SUV went supernova. A debris field of body panels, plastics, chrome, and giblets now lay behind them across their side of the boulevard.

  “FUCK FUCK FUCK!” Mac yelled.

  Hannah chuckled. “Eyes on the road, Mac!”

  The rest of their pursuers backed off, launching four laptop-sized, rectangular black drones from their side windows, probably with explosive charges fixed to them. BUZZZZZZZZZZZZ! Their sonorous screams redlined as they caught up. Hannah lined up a couple, downing them with a single round. Her spinal cord pulsed, and she hit a nutty, inhuman shot to take out the third, but it wasn’t enough; the fourth one bounced off the cope cage and exploded as it glanced off the driver’s side door.

  “Augh!” Mac yelped. Hannah threw her visor off to see what was wrong. Blood. A tiny piece of shrapnel had nicked Mac in the cheekbone, about two inches under his eye. Her vision pulsed red, and she looked back, but the black SUVs chasing them were no longer in sight: she took a rain check on her wrath.

  “Take this next turn. I know a place we can lay low for a while.”

  ---

  Under an abandoned overpass, Hannah gathered enough paper and other bits of refuse to light the lone trash can there on fire with her pink Bic lighter. The flame grew into adolescence, playing homeless hopscotch on the graffiti-covered embankment.

  This ambiance is surprisingly fitting. A shrine to urban decay. But still, it’s sorta romanti—No. What are you saying, Hannah!? We almost died, girl!

  Hannah climbed into the passenger seat, hit the dome light, and tapped Mac’s shoulder. “Face me and stay still. Gotta fix you up.”

  Mac complied. She gasped.

  That’s gonna leave a scar. Wait… that’s kind of—Task at hand, Hannah. Task at hand.

  She pulled out a first-aid kit from the glove box. Gauze. Bandages. Alcohol pads. Super glue.

  Looking away, she faked a cough, covering her mouth with her sleeve.

  “You okay? Kinda cold tonight huh?” Mac asked.

  “Yeah. Gimme a sec. If I fuck this up, I’m gonna get super glue everywhere.”

  Hearing this, Mac stuttered. “O-okay. I’ll stay still. Whenever you’re ready.”

  Ripping open the alcohol pad’s package, she pulled it and unfolded it. “This’ll hurt.”

  “Rea—” Hannah pressed it against Mac’s cheek. “AAAAAH! MOTHERFUCKER!”

  She stuck her tongue out, smirking. “Now this is the hard part. Stay still or I’ll glue your eye shut.”

  Using her left hand, she held Mac’s cheek steady as she applied the fix with her right.

  Oh, he’s kinda cu—CAN YOU PLEASE FOCUS?

  With her hand shaking more than she would like, she sealed the cut and held the edges together until she felt it set. Gauze. Then a BIG bandage.

  “You sure that’s it? Did they hit you anywhere else?”

  To whoever created me, please don’t make me check him. That’d be the writing of some dogshit hack from the ’burbs with nothing meaningful to say.

  “No I’m fine…” Mac cracked up, then began cry laughing. Wiping a tear forming at his eye with his finger, he shared another look with Hannah. Another one she was weak to.

  “So that’s why you told me not to open the tonneau cover? Holy fuck you’re funny! But you also saved our lives today so… Thank you!”

  A warm current surged, breaking the levees in her capillaries. Feeling it, she turned the dome light off. Hannah thanked her creator that the lit trash can was poor lighting.

  “Y-yeah, don’t mention it.”

  Mac went on. “And I didn’t expect the truck to be that powerful, but yet so easy to drive! It was supernatural! Almost felt like all I had to do was think about where I wanted to go and the thing just gave me exactly what I needed. Only skidded once peeling out of the driveway!”

  Her blushes deepened.

  “Of course, I have the best mechanics in town…” Hannah trailed off.

  This guy. Please move on already! I can’t take much more—

  But he stayed on the thread. “They shot at us as well, but we got insanely lucky. Like when that drone bounced off the roof rack and blasted my door with shrapnel, I thought I was done for! Feel like I’ll find out next time that this baby can run over a land mine and keep on ticking. I knew old Toyota trucks were tough but… Guess they weren’t bullshitting! Heheh!”

  Good thing he didn’t find out about the other upgrades I commissioned. He probably would’ve thought I was mega weird. But this is a bit much right now. Think quick! Wait…

  “Wait. The food’s cold now,” she interrupted.

  Mac frowned, now aware of their dire circumstances. “Aww, darn. And we didn’t even get to enjoy the sunset at the airport. But a hell of a maiden voyage for Weasel, huh? Ah, whatever. Let’s dig in.”

  He names his things? Good to know.

  Crinkle. The flames from the trash can gyrated, giving them a free, private show through the windshield as they unwrapped their freezing burgers. Chew. Slurp! In silence, they downed their sandwiches, fries, and drinks. They sat in contentment for a few minutes, with neither of them saying anything.

  Mac moved first. “Here, I’ll take your trash as well,” he offered as he stepped out, eyes on the burning bin.

  “I’ll go with you. Was getting kinda cold in here anyways.”

  She watched as Mac cast their bags, wrappers, napkins, and cups into the fire. Mac held his hands out to the flames and rubbed them together. He turned away and stared into the underside of the bridge, slotting his hands into his hoodie’s keep-warm pocket. Breathing out, a thin white cloud formed over his head. Hannah shivered in her shirt. Noticing, he slipped out of his sweatshirt and walked over to her side of the trash can.

  He offered it to her. “Take it for now. Fire’s plenty warm for me.” The fire’s glow hit the side of his face like a key light at the perfect angle, brightness, and distance.

  This guy…

  She took it without a word. Hannah hesitated putting it on, but then her logical side took over: she was damn cold and his hoodie came prewarmed.

  I know I’m cold, but why always this guy? Fine. I’ll put it on.

  A mix of bergamot, sandalwood, pine resin and—blueberries?—stepped into a waltz on her palate, overwhelming the trash-scented candle burning in front of them.

  Sniff! Pinching the collar and ducking into the baggy hoodie, she took another hit of his scent and closed her eyes in bliss.

  “Old Spice and blueberry shampoo.”

  She opened her eyes wide and pursed her lips. Then came the panicked explanation. “WAITWAITWAIT. IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE! I was uhh, seeing if we smelled like grease! I can’t smell myself too well so I thought…”

  “Oh!” Sniff! Mac mimicked Hannah, checking his T-shirt for evidence. “Guess you’re right, heheh! Man, what a day! But I’d much rather be sleeping under an overpass smelling like grease than… what could’ve happened today.”

  With her face boiling from the cover-up, she politely laughed along as she warmed her hands.

  No. It’s just the fire. This guy. I never know if he’s screwing around or if he’s being serious and it’s DRIVING ME CRAZY!